


Childish

by BruceChickinson



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Childishness, Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17419532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruceChickinson/pseuds/BruceChickinson
Summary: Sanji is bored and torments a green haired stranger because of it.





	Childish

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this while bored on a flight and also very happy and lovey dovey so yeah, I have little excuse

Sanji had been on the little table in that busy mall for days. In fact, not days, weeks. No, it wasn’t days, much less weeks, but at least that was how he felt. He was supposed to have a date with a girl he'd met the day before at this little coffee shop. He arrived well before the scheduled time, because he was a gentleman and he’d never risk leaving a lady waiting, and sat down at the small table. He asked for a coffee so he wouldn’t stay there without buying anything and waited. And waited. And…waited.

Sanji was not the kind to give up easily, so it would take a lot more than a few minutes to make him lose his temper and walk away. Nor could he think so badly about a lady as to think she would have no education and wouldn’t come without warning him. But it had been so long since he'd been sitting there, and the cups of coffee on the tiny table were so many that he began to feel hopeless. He was a fan of round numbers, so he'd wait until exactly five hours of waiting so he could give up and leave the mall.

The problem was that he was already getting mad with boredom. And to make matters worse, he couldn’t smoke inside the mall. That "No smoking" sign right in front of his table was torture to him, it just reminded him of how badly he needed a cigarette. He even thought of leaving quickly to light one, just one, but he wouldn’t risk the mellorine coming and he not being there. Then he tried to satisfy himself with the caffeine in his many many coffees, and the toothpick he held between his lips, rolling over his mouth with his tongue and eventually smoking it fakely as he would smoke a real cigarette. There were still long, tedious minutes, and he stirred the spoon into the empty cup. He had already tried to spend his time doodling random stuff on the notepad he always carried with him, at the point to even drawing a pattern behind all its pages.

His table was right next to the balcony where one could see the lower floor and he tried to distract himself by watching the coming and going of the few people who passed on the floor below, being entertained from time to time at identifying someone passing by a second time and wondering what they could be doing. He observed the mall security guard, which he identified by his Segway, pass accurate 37 times, stopping once to ask a boy to withdraw his feet from the bench and to give some information to a woman. He watched an old lady take exactly two coffee cups and a half to cross the food court with her cane. He observed several wonderful women doing wonderful women stuff and sighed aloud countless times imagining being at their side, attending to all their requests, holding their shopping bags and buying everything they wished from any shop window.

Then he saw something unusual. A man with green hair. He had never seen this in his life, though he knew that it had become relatively common nowadays to see people with the most unusual hair colors. But surely the combination of such an eccentric color with the formal clothes the man was wearing was strange. Until then, everything was relatively normal. But he saw the man pass by again. And again. And again. Was that man lost? It couldn’t be. It was too good to be true. He even thought he might be looking for a specific store or something of that sort, but after a few times it became clear that the punk was just walking in circles forever.

It was a ridiculously tiny mall, how the hell could anyone get lost? Even the lady in her early 90's who had passed earlier would know how to move about easily. And the man even asked something to the guard, more than once, surely about the direction he wanted to go. Did he had perhaps terrible eyesight? Or had the moss affected his brain in some way? Anyway, it was hilarious. And it did wonders for Sanji's boredom. He waited anxiously looking downstairs, waiting for the phosphorescent dot to appear, and was not even watching the clock anymore. He was far away, but if he squeezed his eyes a little he could swear he could see the retard’s idiotic face.

Sanji began to divert his focus only to the green creature, forgetting to count the times the guard passed and even forgetting to drool over the mellorines. And for some reason, just staring didn’t seem enough. Sanji felt an ancestral desire, an instinct, an irrational will to provoke the idiot. Like poking a very angry and retarded tiger. Hilarious. That is, if he didn’t end up with teeth on his throat... though that result _didn’t seem that bad._

Then, succumbing to his desires, he took a napkin from the table and kneaded it. The paper, as expected, didn’t become a perfect ball, and certainly wouldn’t have the aerodynamics desired to fly. Then Sanji took his notepad out of his jacket pocket. He snatched a sheet of paper from it, and this time the paper really became a ball, and he waited for the imbecile to come through again. He was feeling like a five-year-old. A five-year-old competing with another five-year-old. He didn’t even recognize himself anymore. He was in an absolutely immature situation. And worse, he would be rude and dirty the mall with paper balls. He lowered the arm that was aiming down and sighed. But almost as if rehearsed, the bryophyte came again. And his instincts told the gentleman inside of him to shut up, giving way to the temperamental dirty mouthed idiot that existed within. He then aimed and threw the ball with olympic precision.

It hit the greenish target who stopped immediately, confused. Sanji thought of hiding, and his gentleman side was already dying of shame for his demeanor, but his childish side decided that it would be a lot more fun to make the best poker face possible and continue to calmly stir the empty cup as if nothing had happened. The man down there just looked around and shrugged. This was only at the first time, of course. On the second one, he picked up the ball and opened it, his face looking even more stupid in Sanji's distant vision, and put the paper in his pocket. After the tenth (?) thirtieth (?) hundredth (?) ball in his already full pocket, the guy seemed to start getting pissed.

Sanji from some time now had decided that it would be even funnier if he faced the moss directly. Challenging him matched his current childishness, after all. Then the idiot seemed to realize at last that it was he who was doing it. But he kept passing and receiving other balls on his lawn, staring at Sanji every time. Sanji was even more amused, imagining that that man with a useless sense of direction should be trying to find the escalator to come and punch him in his face, and it was hilarious because he would never make it there. By now, Sanji had already gotten up from the table, left his jacket on the table chair, and was leaning against the parapet like a child looking at some sort of attraction.

Then it all started to get boring again. The man was nowhere to be seen, it was taking him much longer than he should have to appear downstairs again. Had he found the place he wanted to go to? Sanji calmed down some of his earlier immature euphoria and put a hand on his cheek. Boredom had returned. All that barbaric idiot adrenaline was disappearing and everything was getting dull again. He looked at the watch on his wrist, and realized that it was past the time he initially set to leave. He had been completely distracted in his little game. His eyes watched the clock’s hand move tediously.

Suddenly, he felt something grab his shoulder and almost got off balance and fell downstairs. When he turned his back, there he was. The seaweed. Now he was seeing the man from up close, very close, by the way. He realized that the man's eyebrows and eyelashes were the same aberrant color as his hair. And he noticed that yes, he had an idiotic face as he had been able to perceive from afar. And not only that, his face was all red, adding a very peculiar tone in that dark skin. Was he that angry? Would he stick his teeth into his neck? _Not that this was a bad thing._ Had Sanji really gone too far in his immaturity by provoking a complete stranger at the mall? A poor retard who just wanted to find the right direction? By the way, speaking of the right direction ...

 

"So, does it mean your inner compass only works to find me? Should I be flattered?"

 

The words spilled out of his mouth without any control before he could stop them, before the gentleman inside could tie the five-year-old in a chair or something. Not surprisingly, the man with the green hair became even redder and the angular eyebrows reached the top of his monumental forehead in surprise. Surely, he made the man even more pissed, why couldn’t he control his desire to provoke him? Then, Sanji looked closely at the man's features and realized that he didn’t seem to be angry. I mean, he looked angry yeah, but it didn’t seem to be just that. Did the idiot look... embarrassed? And the fact that he wasn’t saying anything was too weird. Sanji imagined, he secretly wanted it actually, that he would bite the bait of his provocation, that he’d try to annoy him back, anything. His childlike dynamics wouldn’t be fueled by this strange silence.

Sanji then looked away from the other's face and noticed that he had a badge around his neck. Apparently, his name was Zoro. And he worked on some company in the business part of the mall. Sanji almost couldn’t believe. He started laughing out of his mind. The poor bastard got lost in his own workplace. He laughed uncontrollably, his eyes already wet with tears.

The kelp drew nearer to his face, and he looked even more ashamed than before, his brow furrowed. In a strange way, it was even cute. The brute seemed to want to say something, but he couldn’t. He reached into his pocket and pulled one of the ex-paper balls, now more or less back to its original form of paper sheet, though completely crumpled. Sanji looked at him and now it was him who had a question mark over his head even bigger than the one the man, Zoro, had while he was lost down there. Okay, maybe not so big. Zoro then held the paper in his direction. Sanji noted that there was a heart on the back of it. And then he remembered that while he was bored he drew a pattern on his notepad... hearts on all its sheets. At the time of the adrenaline he didn’t even remember it, much less checked the back of his papers. Then he realized what it must’ve looked like in another's eyesight. He had simply sent dozens of hearts to him. And he felt his face try to decide between getting pale and getting red.

 

"Curlybrows…is this some kind of...an invitation?" The man spoke in a deep voice that certainly didn’t match his present cute flushed face.

 

"Of course it is, marimo, can’t your brain interpret?" Why the hell was he saying that? What the fuck he was doing, inviting a complete stranger to a date like that, and in such a bizarre situation.

 

"And you apparently can’t read to not understand that my name is Zo-ro." He said pointing at the badge slowly, as if Sanji were stupid.

 

"Yeah, I know, but I'd rather name you myself, it's a lot more fun." He said as Zoro snorted. "Anyway, you should thank me, seaweed, if it were not for me you’d be walking around in circles. Some weeks and you would’ve dug a hole in the ground from doing the same path over and over. "

 

"Funny, because I swore that you should be the one thanking me. After all, judging from your table, "he gestured to the table behind them where his jacket lay and Sanji noticed how crammed with cups and toothpicks the thing was" if it weren’t for me you’d be all by yourself doing absolutely nothing.” Zoro smiled triumphantly.

 

"Cocky, aren’t ya?" Sanji mirrored the other's smile, it really looked beautiful on that rough face, compared to the grumpy expression he’d seen so far.  He hoped he could see more of those smiles, he thought. And he kicked himself mentally for thinking that.

 

"So. When is the date? "Zoro asked bluntly, looking away from the blond and feeling his cheeks become flushed as hell again.

 

"I think I’m free this week ... I just have to see when the old geezer’s the car will be available for me." Sanji said casually, trying to get his number down so he wouldn’t have to face the guy while talking about embarrassing things like dates.

 

"I can pick you up-"

 

"Not a fucking chance." Sanji cut off Zoro's suggestion before he could finish, holding out the paper with his number for him. "You won’t be in charge of anything involving getting from point A to point B." And he went to pay the bill while Zoro grumbled behind him.

Zoro explained that, due to his small misadventure, his shift was over already and they both headed to the parking lot. Sanji received a surprisingly delicate peck from the ogre on his cheek, said good-bye, and walked toward his car. When he was opening the door, he noticed a familiar moss beside him.

 

"What did I said about you compass finding me…" He said with a more tender than provocative smile on his lips. "But…were you really trying to find me or did you lose your car?" The soft smile then turned into a devilish one.

 

"It's a bike. Tsc." He rolled his eyes and folded his arms, avoiding Sanji's gaze, who laughed in response.

 

"Come on. Describe it to me." He said, soft features and a beautiful smile plastered on his face, taking the other's hand and leading him in the right direction.

 

He could get used to this, they both thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
